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“You seem worried for Demelza. Have you seen something? Does she have a difficult delivery?” Oria asked.

“There’s something that precedes the delivery I cannot see, which could mean any number of things,” Wren said. “I sensed when I met her that she would have five bairns, but that doesn’t mean she won’t lose any bairns, just that five bairns would survive.”

“I didn’t help by arguing with her,” Oria said, feeling guilty.

“Demelza is far from a fragile woman. She was far more upset with the way you learned about your true birth. She had hoped you and she would become friends first and that would ease the burden of the news. She was born two years after you were taken. Her mother had told her stories about you and they both hoped that one day you would be reunited with the family. There is much she wishes to tell you.”

“I will listen, though I don’t know how I will feel about it,” Oria said.

“Listening is all you need to do right now,” Wren said.

“What else did Demelza confide in you?” Oria asked.

“Give Demelza a chance to tell you. She has longed for the day she could do so and longed for the day she would get to know her sister. This was not her family’s fault nor the family who claimed you as their own, loved you, and kept you safe.”

“Then whose fault is it?” Oria asked, looking for an answer.

“The slave who took you? Those who made her a slave? Your true mother who let a slave care for you? Or had fate simply intervened? There is no definitive answer, nor an answer that would satisfy the pain and hurt that stirs in you. The most important thing for you to remember is that you were loved by the parents who raised you and you’re loved by the parents who lost you.”

Wren’s words remained with her as they entered the village that had once been her home, a loving home with loving memories. People smiled at her, waved, called out greetings and she returned them in kind as she had always done.

“Are you all right, Oria?” Royden asked, his horse plodding along beside hers.

Her smile remained as she turned her head to face him. “Aye, I am. I can do this. I want to do this.”

Royden was glad to see her eyes spark with renewed confidence and he was relieved and happy that she’d regained it for herself.

Trevor and Demelza stood at the top of the keep steps and Oria almost chuckled seeing the tight arm Trevor kept around his wife’s waist to keep her from rushing down the stairs.

Oria was grateful for the snug fit of her husband’s hand around hers as they climbed the stairs. She was also glad for her returned confidence that had her speaking before anyone else could. “I hope you can forgive me for my rude behavior the last time I was here. I’d like for us to talk. I’d like to get to know you, Demelza.”

Demelza broke free of her husband’s arms and flung herself at Oria, tears running down her cheeks.

Oria hugged her not because it was the mannerly thing to do, but because she felt the need to hold her sister tight.

“I am so happy to hear that. I want so badly to know you better,” Demelza said, easing the hold she had on Oria. “We can talk in my,” —she stopped abruptly to correct herself— “your mother’s solar.”

That Demelza acknowledged the woman who raised her as her mother touched Oria’s heart. “It is your solar now just as Royden’s mum’s solar is now mine.” She smiled. “And one day will be our daughters. Time doesn’t stand still for anyone.”

“Then let us not waste a minute,” Demelza said and took Oria’s hand.

Wren stepped forward from where she stood to the side with Parlan. “If you have need of me, I will be tending those in the clan who require my help.”

Demelza nodded. “I will see you later, Wren.” Then she sent her husband a smile as she hurried past him with Oria and entered the keep.

Trevor looked to Royden. “I appreciate this.”

“I do this for my wife and for your wife,” Royden said.

“You still have my gratitude and I am in your debt.”

“Good, then settle the debt now and tell me what the Beast has planned for this area.”

Happy and loving memories welcomed Oria like a comforting embrace as soon as she entered her mum’s solar.

“My mum died when I was only eight years, but I have wonderful memories of her. I hope I can be as good and loving mum as she had been to me,” Oria said, needing Demelza to know how much her mum meant to her.

“I’m glad a good woman found you and raised you with such love,” Demelza said and pointed to a chair worn from use, for Oria to sit.


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